


Mine and Mine and Yours

by Enk



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Biting, Claiming, M/M, Marking, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enk/pseuds/Enk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past six months, Pavel and Leonard have kept their relationship secret. So, Pavel claims what's his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine and Mine and Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tres_mechante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tres_mechante/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Мой, мой и твой](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2293814) by [Finkay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finkay/pseuds/Finkay)



> written for Rounds of Kink on LJ for the kink 'biting/marking' and the prompt "Bite me!" -"I thought you'd never ask!" wherein those two phrases are non-verbal. 
> 
> Pavel is over 18 (20 in fact).

Having a private relationship is much easier on Earth than it is on a Starship with the nosiest crew Pavel has ever encountered.  Nosiest. Crew. _Ever._ It is bad enough that he has to hide behind the façade of a starry-eyed wiz-kid with a terrible quasi-Russian accent. Most of them haven’t even clued in that the accent’s fake, that Pavel grew up in Chicago, that the only time Pavel’s been to Russia was during summer holidays when he was 12. What sucks particularly bad is that he has to hide a relationship because protocol may insinuate that he is being taken advantage of by a superior officer. Like anyone could take advantage of him. Hah.

So, maybe it isn’t as official a relationship as Pavel sometimes thinks it is. Sure, the sex is great and he loves overhearing the Captain trying to pry out of Leonard who he is fucking.  The guesses are plenty and none of them are ever Pavel because Pavel is innocent and sweet and eager and off-limits even though he’s definitely well over 18 now.  The first time Pavel slept with Leonard McCoy was the usual drunken one night stand only then it became a regular thing and then Leonard had made allusions that he’d prefer if Pavel didn’t sleep around (not that he had). So, he didn’t.

They haven’t told anyone. They haven’t said ‘I love you’. They haven’t gone on a date. In fact, their relationship was void of the usual Human courtship and mating structure that ever so fascinated Spock and embarrassed Nyota when he asked her out on dates in the middle of the bridge in his own special ways.  Pavel doesn’t want to tell Hikaru who shares a past with Leonard.  Telling your best friend that you are… seeing his ex-boyfriend (a stupid, immature word, Pavel thinks) doesn’t usually go over well.  So he hasn’t. Leonard hasn’t told anyone either, not Jim, not Spock, not Scotty (though Pavel thinks the man is smart enough to have figured it out).

It shouldn’t bother him. They have monogamous sex; spend time together in each others’ quarters; he knows Leonard has affections for him, he shouldn’t want more. But the problem is that he does. He wants more. Maybe not holding hands while walking to the turbolift together, but he wants people to know that Leonard is his. _His._ No one else’s.

Pavel had planned to go to the gym after his duty shift but somehow he ends up in front of Leonard’s quarters and doesn’t pause to ring the chime, hacks himself into the room instead. He’s on a mission he’s only just realized.

“Hey,” Leonard smiles when he sees Pavel, “what are-?”  

He doesn’t finish. He can’t finish because Pavel cuts him off with a kiss, demanding, hard, passionate, desperate, all the adjectives Pavel can think of in just a single kiss. Leonard’s out of breath when Pavel pulls back, slightly flushed, hair a little disheveled. He looks better this way, Pavel thinks and doesn’t let him catch his breath before he kisses him again, hands pulling at the shirt Leonard is wearing. When he pulls it off, Leonard grabs him by the back of the neck and pushes him into the wall. Sometimes, Pavel wishes he could just let go and get lost in everything, but short of a bottle of vodka, nothing dulls his keen senses. He can feel the scratch of Leonard’s shirt on his skin, the same time as he tastes the faint aroma of bourbon in Leonard’s mouth, and he realizes that he doesn’t need to turn off; he doesn’t need to lose himself.  He needs Leonard.  Needs him. No more secrets. Leonard tilts his head slightly to the side, an invitation.

The noise that comes from him the first time Pavel sinks his teeth into the muscle where his shoulder and neck meet, Trapezius first, then Sternocleidomastoid (he paid attention in anatomy class); that noise goes straight to Pavel’s cock- no, it hits his spine first, then rushes down in a flurry of electric reactions within his nervous system until it burgeons in his cock. Nice. So, Pavel does it again, Trapezius. Leonard definitely prefers Trapezius and who is Pavel to rob him of the sensation. He not so ceremoniously shoves his hand into Leonard’s slacks and figures out that, yeah, Leonard really likes what he’s doing to him. 

The kisses become feverish. Somewhere along the line, getting Leonard to keep making these fucking amazing noises becomes more important than where Pavel’s teeth go.  He’s not even sure how he’s lost his clothes. So, he sucks on the skin of Leonard’s neck until the noises go from deep groans to a more high-pitched gasp. _Pain_. Pavel stops and showers the red skin with soft kisses until Leonard takes them both in hand, whispers “’s fine” in Pavel’s ear, and begins to stroke. Pavel can’t help the noises he makes, or that he continues to bite and suck Leonard’s neck and shoulder. Every mark that blossoms red at first, then purple, some of them darker, every mark resonates within him. _Mine._

Leonard pushes him into the wall, leans his weight on Pavel; and Pavel can’t stop his hips from bucking against him, can’t keep his brain which seems to have switched from thought to visualizations of electric impulses. Leonard knows exactly what Pavel needs before the thoughts can form. He kisses him hard, deep, and if Pavel would have been able to think clearly, he would have questioned if he’s ever kissed him like that before. Leonard squeezes and strokes and grinds and makes all the perfect noises for Pavel to hear.  He tries to hold back but when Leonard’s thumb presses against the head of his cock just the right way, he’s so close, so fucking close. When he feels Leonard’s teeth sink into the skin just below his jaw, he cries out his orgasm, can’t stop the noises, can’t stop bucking against him or digging his nails into Leonard’s shoulder and back. Leonard follows him moments later.

When the world reconstitutes from electrical impulse, Leonard is smiling at Pavel and Pavel pants and swears in Russian. Maybe, vodka wasn’t the only thing that can slow his mind. Maybe, all he needed was-

“Holy shit, Pavel!” Leonard’s voice comes from the bathroom. Pavel joins him, surprised by the force in Leonard’s tone, but by the time he stands behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, Leonard is laughing. “Don’t they feed you on this god damn ship?”

Pavel looks at the mirror with a smile. Leonard’s neck and chest are a field of blooming bruises, hickeys, love bites of varying shades of red and purple and blue. Perfection. Pavel smiles and when he turns his head to kiss him; he notices a similar bloom right below the corner of his jaw.  Leonard’s fingers are gentle when they touch him.

“That’s going to show even with your uniform on.”

“So will those.” Pavel points at several blooms definitely above the line of the uniform collar.

“Are you okay with that?” Leonard sounds concerned but when Pavel looks at him he realizes the concern in his eyes isn’t borne from selfish worry, but rather that he, Pavel, would mind the mark.

“Are you?” Pavel caresses one of the marks and steels himself for a ‘no’ and a reaching for the dermal regenerator.

“Yeah,” Leonard pulls Pavel closer, “yeah, I think I am, kid.”

“Then so am I, old man.”

No one asks questions on the next duty shift, but Pavel can tell they all know.

Mine, he thinks.

 

_Mine.  
  
And yours._


End file.
